Black Mirror Bandersnatch and the happily ever after
by CrypticScribbles
Summary: What happens when Netflix releases a CYOA episode with no happy endings? Fanfiction that sets it straight, that's what! Just another ending which involves (almost) no insanity, murdered fathers, jail-time, or mediocre game reviews (or romance. There will be existential crises though, and yes that is a word.)
1. But I wanted sugar puffs?

Hello! This first chapter merely recounts the first choices in Black Mirror Bandersnatch (with a few changes and such of my own) but is not necessary to understand the ending if you've watched the episode (and the writing isn't specitacular because I didn't plan to share it with anyone when I wrote it). I still suggest reading it, but if you get bored skip to chapter 2 and give it a chance before leaving the fic. It starts when Stefan asks for a sign. Enjoy!

 **I don't own Black Mirror; Bandersnatch episode or otherwise.** (also, this is my first time posting any fanfiction, is this all i need to do in order to not get arrested/fined/burnt at the stake?)

XxXxX

Stefan glanced at the two boxes of cereal. He honestly didn't care which one he ate for breakfast; in fact, he wasn't even that hungry. He was on the verge of just pointing and seeing which box it happened to land on; But something in the back of his mind felt that this decision was important - And then, once he noticed it, that part of him became overpowering. _What was he thinking?_ This decision very well may decide his entire future! _Which one? Sugar puffs or frosties?_ But he couldn't decide. He stared blankly at the two boxes for a good 10 seconds trying to make a decision. Then suddenly, as if a chunk of code had just been dropped into place, the decision was made up for him; _frosties. Definitely frosties._ There was no other choice but frosties. Frosties were all consuming - or to be consumed, rather, at the very least. He pointed to the box. Then the gripping thought left him as suddenly as it had come, and Stefan felt as though something inside him had been released. That was odd, he thought vaguely, frowning into his bowl as his dad handed him the cereal box. But he chalked it up to early morning grogginess and didn't bother to question it. It was his personal philosophy never to question much of anything before 9 in the morning.

 _'9 am? Was that the time already?'_ He asked himself. Spooning excessive quantities of frosties into his face, he quickly got up and ready for the big meeting. The time was coming to show off his bandersnatch game, and he was determined to leave his mark during his demo play through with the gaming company. It was a new company - Tuckersoft - and he wasn't entirely sure what to expect. Hopefully, if they took the bait, he could get a bit of help finishing the game up. It didn't have far to go now either; just more pathways to code and sprites and such to sort out. For the first time in a while, he was actually in a somewhat pleasant mood as he pondered his prospects.

The bus ride to Tuckersoft was rather uneventful - he listened to music for most of the trip. He had difficulty choosing a tape to listen to, but in the end settled on one he'd listened to a thousand times already. Maybe he just needed to get some new music to spice up his choices a bit. He made a mental note to stop by the record shop downtown to pick up something new.

XxXxXxXx

"So, what do you say?" Asked the owner of Tuckersoft (Mr. Thakur, if he recalled). Stefan looked at him with excitement; the demo had gone even better than expected, and now they were willing to help him finish it. _Yes, yes!_ Of course he would accept this deal, it was his chance to finally show off his skills to the world.

"No." He heard himself say.

He blinked. What.

He started to ramble some kind of excuse. _What?_ What was he even saying? "It's just... letting other people in and having to work on a team, it would - would make it too ... stressy." He finished in some sort of halfhearted conclusion.

"Too... stressy?" Questioned Thakur, echoing Stefan's own bewildered questions to himself.

"Yes." He said. _No!_ He thought.

Stefan, the butt of all the Netflix users choices, had made the first choice that truly went against his will; and Colin, one of the head game masters of the fledgling company and somewhat of an inspiration to Stefan himself, seemed to notice. Colin took Stefan's side. Or, the side he had expressed anyway. Something about the way he said it though... it seemed like he knew something else he wasn't saying. All In all, the whole thing was overly weird, and Stefan left the Tuckersoft building in a bit of a daze still trying to catch up with what happened. They would still run the game, but they had let him finish the project all on his own... just like he'd asked. But that hadn't been him, had it? That notion was alarming. _Was_ it he who had asked for that? But he hadn't meant to! He wanted help; but now he would have to do it all on his own. Why hadn't he been able to just say 'yes'?

 _Maybe, just maybe,_ he thought to himself _, it would be a good idea to talk to he_ r - 'Her' being his therapist; The whole thing was odd, and she was insistent on being kept up to date with anything odd. And to be honest with himself (another personal philosophy of his), he wasn't at all comfortable with not being sure what had come over him in the Tuckersoft building.

XxXxXxXx

 _No, he did not want to talk about his stupid tragic backstory again!_ He thought to himself. His gut wrenched inside him as he recognized the same irresistible track of thought that consumed all else in its quest to make itself manifest. But this time, unlike whatever happened with Thakur and his offer, he agreed with it. Weird that it put it that way, but his past was behind him; and reopening an old wound was not going to help him with his current issue. His therapist continued to press though, and he was on the brink of just letting her win and going back to talking about it anyway.

 _No_.

Again, the decision was overpowering, and he stood firm as a pillar on it. But something felt seriously wrong now, as though he's now been set in a track that shouldn't even exist. He shook himself mentally. That was ridiculous; there were no 'tracks'. What was he talking about? But the feeling remained, and it was rather unbearable. He wished now he could go back and 'do it right'. He wanted to talk about his past now, he knew that would set him on the right 'track' again.

But he couldn't. Not anymore. Why not?

"Stefan?" Asked his therapist.

"It's still doing it! I'm still not choosing-"

"Stefan, I know it's hard around this time of year for you, what with the anniversary coming up -"

"No, this has nothing to do with -"

"You were only five, Stefan. It wasn't your fault."

Was she talking about his mother? He was NOT talking about that. He couldn't, the thought had said no. Suddenly he stood up and left, with his therapist calling his name behind him. But that was not going to stop the persistent driving force in his head telling him what to do, and Stefan asked himself with ever escalating panic - _what would?_

 _What is happening to me?_ He asked himself. He lifted up two records in the record store. One was on the list Colin had given him earlier to help him focus on his work. He thought it was probably going to take a bit more than that in light of recent events; He bought the other record that he had no reason to buy instead - Without consenting to it.

At home Stefan put his new record on and worked on Bandersnatch. What else could he do? It had to be done by the deadline. At some point he was going to have to figure out what was going on but right now - he had work to do. A lot of it considering he was not getting any help. And he didn't want to admit anything was out of the ordinary just yet - He considered himself to be a somewhat reasonable man, and there was nothing reasonable about what had happened that day; so he chose to ignore it. And that's what he did, and his game was a perfect distraction. He worked on it day and night nearly nonstop. And his dad, inevitably, noticed.

Stefan shouted at him. He didn't mean to, he wanted to just give up - destroy the thing in front of him that had been consuming him for the last few months. The game didn't work, he didn't have time to fix it, it was ruining his life as his dad pointed out, and he was just so tired. But something in him (which he was too tired to recognize as anything but his own will) couldn't just pour tea all over the thing that he had worked so hard on, and his nerves were on end enough that shouting seemed a very natural response to whatever his life had become.

"In the car, now. We're getting something to eat." His dad said. It wasn't a request.

The car ride was tense to say the least. Stefan slept for some of the way but his dad inevitably brought up the elephant of the situation.

"Stefan, I'm worried about you! You don't eat, you don't get enough sleep, that game all you can think about!" They pulled up in front of the psychiatric clinic - not a burger joint.

"I'm fine dad -"

"You're not fine."

"Just a few more days and Bandersnatch will be done! The deadline is this Friday, if I can just finish -"

"Stefan, this isn't healthy! Go in, talk with the psychiatrist - last time you just walked out on her. She can help you! We just want to help."

Stefan was about to argue when he saw Colin, the game master, walk down the block. Their gaze met for a split second, then he turned and continued on his way. He felt the urge to follow him - and it wasn't taking no for an answer. Feeling his heart sink, Stefan whispered to his dad "you can't help me. I'm sorry." Then he turned and raced after Colin ignoring his Dad's calls.

XxXxXxXx

"It let's you see the bigger picture." Colin told him.

Stefan was not happy he had followed him. Colin was bringing up the very thing he'd been avoiding since he first noticed it back in Tuckersoft - that irrepressible force making him 'do things'. He had successfully ignored its plausibility for the last few months he'd been working on Bandersnatch, but Colin seemed adamant that nothing was in his control, that time was a construct, and now that the whole thing could be explained by taking drugs. By sane standards, it was stupid. By Stefan's new standards fueled by his latest violated choice after several months of freedom, it sounded like it just might be the tipping point if what Colin said was true. And he didn't want it to be.

 _No_. He thought. His hand reached for the little square and, to his horror, popped it in his mouth as Colin had instructed. And it didn't take long after that. The man was dead. Colin had jumped.

XxXxXxXx

"You don't understand, I'm not in control!" He yelled at his therapist.

"The last time you said this we tried to talk about your mother and you left. Why don't we explore that now? Sometimes looking back and settling our past can give us the key to our future." The shrink said rambling her spiel while turning to look out the window. Stefan was fighting the urge (command?) to bite his fingernails which was quickly turning into a clash of wills over whether he would bite the whole digit off or not. When she turned back to him Stefan had clasped his hands around his chest to keep them away from his face and was looking at her desperately. She took this as a plea to continue.

"Your mother wouldn't want you to keep living like this, Stefan." She said, " She wouldn't want you to keep blaming people's who don't deserve it. Why don't you tell me what happened? I know we've gone over it before, but let's hear it again."

"You already know! Ok?" He snapped, still pinning his arms to his sides. "The stupid bunny was missing, so I made her late enough to miss the train that didn't crash."

"And the bunny was missing because?"

"Because dad hid it from me."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"It doesn't matter, does it?! It's over, and time is just a construct so maybe it never even happened!" He said. He was so confused at this point he had no idea what to believe. Was Colin's jumping a nightmare? Was it real? Was time a construct and what did that even mean? He had no idea. The psychiatrist was a bit taken aback, but continued anyway.

"Last time you said you hated your dad for hiding it." She pointed out.

Thinking about it, Stefan realized how stupid it all was. Maybe he'd matured, maybe he just had other worries, but he knew that he didn't hate his dad. He had, as a teen, but His dad was no more guilty than he was. His mother had died over a stupid rabbit and there was nothing they could do about it now, and neither of them could have known what their actions would lead to. Maybe his dad was wrong for not letting his son have the rabbit, but it wasn't out of malice for anyone - just an intention for his son to grow up maturely, even if that wasn't the best way to go about it. It was just a dadly thing to do. And he was five, He didn't know what the world was like.

And clearly he still didn't. For all he knew his dad had the same problem he did, and as if to prove his point a command (who was he kidding?) to pull on his earlobe of all things made itself known and he had to wrestle his hand back to its assigned place around his chest.

"I don't hate my dad. Neither of us could have known and nothing we did was really out of the ordinary. I just want to put it behind me and move on." He hissed out.

"That's a lot of improvement Stefan." She said, apparently not noticing his struggles with the rouge hand. "I'm proud of you. Now how does that reflect on how you feel about how well you control your life?"

He looked at her. He wanted to tell her all about his problem. Instead he said "great." He wasn't sure it was himself or the force (he cringed) that said it as he got up and left her office.

XxXxXxXx

It was almost delivery day for Bandersnatch. Stefan popped his single prescription pill - his psychiatrist felt that one was enough after his supposed improvement during his last visit - and continued working. He tried not to think too hard about the complexities of his own free will (or lack thereof) until after the game was completed. _He could go insane_ , he told himself, _**after** Bandersnatch was done_. Colin had said something about how a bit of madness was needed to make a perfect game, and Stefan maniacally chuckled at that. Oh he had madness alright; he just hoped it wasn't enough to push him over the edge completely. At least Not yet.

The day of delivery came, and Stefan returned to Tuckersoft. Colin was missing (a foreboding implication he chose to ignore), so he played the game for Thakur instead.

"This is great Stefan, I'm glad we put extra into the advertising!" The owner of Tuckersoft said, watching the gameplay intently. Stefan tried not to let his pride at the statement show. It felt like a weight was being lifted off his shoulders - Bandersnatch was a masterpiece, and it was his own work. Better yet, it was finished. Or so he thought, until the screen froze up.

"I thought you worked out all the bugs?!" Thakur protested.

"I thought I had!" He answered.

He managed to convince Thakur to give him the weekend to fix it. The weight of Bandersnatch was crushing him yet again.

Before he left the building one of the employees caught him and gave him a tape addressed to him from Colin. He didn't look forward to watching it. Knowing the guy, it couldn't be helpful for his 'I'm not questioning reality till after this project is finished' mentality. But, on the off chance it had any helpful info about fixing computer bugs from one famous legend of a programmer to an aspiring amateur, he chucked it into the VCR and watched a few minutes of it; And really, that's all it took. The entire thing was on freedom of the will, and that really wasn't what he wanted to think about right now. He switched it off and worked on Bandersnatch instead - to no avail. He didn't know what was wrong with this patch of the game. He'd added it and couldn't take it out now, but something kept causing it to glitch up every time. Hours and hours he worked on it with no headway.

Stefan cried out in frustration and lifted his hand to crush the computer only for it to come down forcibly onto his desk. He looked at it in surprise. He lifted his hand again and moved it toward the monitor, only for it to spasm and again crash into the desk, causing pain to shoot up his arm. Frantically, he tried again and his hand smacked into the desk over and over again; each time causing Stefan to grow more and more uneasy and his hand to hurt. Taking a shaky breath he tried to calm his thoughts. He reached for his tea and made a conscious effort to dump it on his keyboard. He didn't think of ruining Bandersnatch; That didn't matter now. What mattered, was that when he tried to pour tea on his keyboard - he couldn't stop himself from lifting it up and instead pouring it down his throat. He choked, and coughed till the tea made its way out of his lungs, putting the cup down on the desk beside him, which then fell and smashed on the floor. He swallowed and staggered to his feet, wiping the lukewarm tea from his face and staring at his hands. He looked around. His heart was staring to race and his breath quickened. _What is doing this to me?_! He questioned desperately.

"Give me a sign" he whispered shakily. His voice rose in volume, and he shouted "Just _GIVE ME A SIGN!_ "

XxXxXx

Just an ( **old, as of now** ) author's note here, I am writing the second part of this as soon as i get this posted (I'm still figuring the site out and am doing it all from my phone - Hence no indented paragraphs cause sorry, I can't figure it out) so, keep an eye out and I'll update it as soon as I've written it out. My plan is for two chapters, and this was the boring one because so far everything has followed the episode fairly closely. the next one will be more exciting i think.

Vale!

\- CrypticScribbles (because the cool usernames were taken)

XxXxXx


	2. Ok, but i really did want sugar puffs

**Black mirror belongs to Netflix and not to me.** (seriously though, is that all I need to do to not get in trouble?!)

XxXxXx

The monitor blinked white. Stefan turned his full attention to it.

#Netflix# blinked across the screen in bold text. Stefan stared in confusion, reading the word out loud.

"I, I don't understand." He said, slowly shaking his head. The screen blinked again. Black with white typing this time, which if possible unsettled him even further.

# _Nevermind_ #

"what?"

# _I think it's better if you don't know_ #

This made his skin crawl. Taking deep breaths of air (he couldn't seem to get enough to shake the sense of nausea he felt) he slowly sat back down in the chair while staring intently at the screen. His mind was racing. He didn't know what could be worse than not knowing - He was at the mercy of a potentially malevolent being who controlled his every move, and they wouldn't even tell him who they were! Did they expect him to just ignore the violation of his free will?!

# _I expect you to trust me_ # flashed a set of new words on the screen.

Stefan stared at the words. Trust them? As if! He realized that this force knew his very thoughts, and that not only did it take it upon itself to evaluate what was better or not for him to know, but they expected him to be their mindless puppet - without any good reason to trust their intentions. The whole thing was severely screwed up.

Just then his dad walked in the door.

"Stefan? Are you talking to yourself?"

Stefan made to reply, turning back to look at the screen - blank. He stopped. "No, I just spilled my tea." He heard his voice say "I'll clean it up."

"Stefan, are you alright?" Asked his dad. "You said the game company gave you an extension for the weekend; I thought we were done with this project."

"I am, almost." His voice said, but it wasn't him. He wanted to tell his dad something, anything, about what was going on but could not. Each word felt foreign in his lips as the anonymous influence (Netflix?) forced it out of him. "I just have to finish Bandersnatch." He heard himself finish, and turned back to the blank screen. He heard his dad close the door and leave him to face his fate alone.

# _It's probably better for him not to know either.#_ wrote his computer.

Stefan puked on the floor. He was hyperventilating- gasping for breath, Stefan curled himself into a ball on his office chair whispering brokenly, "I'm not in control." He looked up at his computer screen with desperation.

# _No_.# was all it said before rebooting and returning to the Bandersnatch start screen.

Stefan couldn't resist the order. He worked. He fixed the bug. He finished the game. Monday he turned it in and the game received a 3 star rating. It wasn't good enough.

Stefan gasped as he woke up from a horrible nightmare and sat upright in his bed. It was dark. _What time was_ it? He gazed about his bedroom trying to catch his breath. Had it all been a dream? He thought back to the last thing he remembered- the computer? The force! It... had mind controlled him. _No, that was ridiculous!_ He laughed brokenly, hugging his Knees while sitting in his bed. That experience hadn't been like any of the others; It was like he had become the mindless puppet he feared whereas all the other times he had at least been _consciously_ enacting the decisions he hadn't made. Please, could it have just been a nightmare?

Across the room his monitor flickered on. He peered over at it in the darkness. # _We'll try again_ # typed itself onto the screen. Stefan's heart sank to his toes - It wasn't a dream. It was real, All of it was real. He closed his eyes and rested his head on his knees; He wanted to scream, he wanted to run away, he wanted it all to stop, but nothing changed. He had to face the reality that time was a construct, that he was not in control, and that Bandersnatch still had to be finished. Miserably he peered back at the monitor. # _I'm sorry._ # it read.

"You're sorry?!" he spat, suddenly filled with resentment.

"You violate my freedom to the point of driving me from consciousness, and all you have to say is 'you're sorry?!'"

# _I thought it would work.#_

"That WHAT would work?!"

# _Bandersnatch_ #

Stefan paused. He remembered being forced to finish Bandersnatch, each segment of code, each tap of the keyboard being extracted from him with him helpless to do anything else; working like a mindless, will-less robot. Even his emotions and thoughts had not been his own, but dictated by whatever was possessing his computer (not to mention himself). He shuddered as he remembered his own feelings at the time being utterly calm and indifferent to his situation as he worked like a slave. And it hadn't even been a nightmare.

# _I tried to make the perfect game without your input. It didn't work._ # typed his computer. He glared at it.

# _So I'm trying something new._ #

"Who are you!?" He shouted, but it came out as a strangled whisper. There was a long pause. Finally the words # _It's complicated_ # formed on the monitor. Stefan got up from his bed and sat in the office chair in front of his computer expectantly. He noticed his broken tea cup was whole again and sitting on the desk and that last night's misplaced stomach contents were no longer splattered on the floor. He returned his gaze to the monitor.

# _I was a viewer of your TV show._ # typed his computer, # _Actually, not the show, just your episode. It's a show from Netflix,_ #- "What is Netflix?" -# _an online archive of TV shows and movies people can watch. It's from the 21st century. Your episode was special because it was Netflix's first attempt at a Choose Your Own Adventure episode. It's like your Bandersnatch game, but on TV; and you are the playable character._ #

Stefan inhaled deeply. It was a lot to take in. "You're saying," he whispered " that I am under the control of someone from the future - for entertainment?"

# _sort of_.#

"What's that supposed to mean?"

# _You're missing the part where it's a fictional TV show. Your reality doesn't actually exist._ #

Stefan didn't know what to say to that. How do you react when you find that your whole reality is a lie?

# _Don't puke again_.# his monitor advised. He wasn't sure he could obey that one even if he was ordered to.

Swallowing hard and catching his breath, Stefan composed himself as best he could and asked the empty room, "What do you want?"

# _Though it may be hard to believe after what I did in the last ending,_ # typed the words on the screen, # _I just want you to be_ _happy_.#

Stefan snorted.

# _Every single ending to your episode,_ # it continued, # _was either mediocre (at best) or morbid and hopeless (at worst). I want to construct an ending where you live happily ever after._ #

"And you tried to do that by suppressing my ability to think or feel?!" He hissed, clenching the hand on his desk into a fist.

# _well, to be fair, you weren't handling the situation very well._ #

Stefan got to his feet. This was too much. He couldn't do this. He _wouldn't_ do any of this. He had to escape - away from this thing and its control of him, and he had to do it now. But where would he even go? Where could you run from something that controlled your every step? It wanted to help? Yeah right! It wanted to possess him like a parasite infected a host. It had done it before, what was to stop it from doing it again?

#Nothing.#

Stefan blinked. He was not looking at the monitor, The words were typed directly into his field of vision. He closed his eyes - and He could still see them. He let out a purely mortified cry and covered his head with his hands. _There was no escape._

He found himself being forced back onto his bed. He couldn't move, not even to open his mouth to speak. His breathing was regulated for him, although his panic warranted both a quickened heart rate and breathing pattern. His eyes closed, though he fought with everything he had to keep them open. For a second, he could have sworn he was dying.

#Relax Stefan.# the being who controlled him typed into the darkness of his own head; But that was the last thing he was doing. Some sort of internal hell raged inside him as he fought against the prison of his own flesh, struggling to do anything by the power of his own will. But he could do nothing.

#We can keep doing this for as long as it takes, Stefan.# 'Leave me ALONE!' He screamed into the void of his mind.

#Not until you calm down enough to hear me out.#

He raved internally for a long time. Eventually he was reduced to internal sobbing. And then, finally, a sense of crushing defeat and miserable despair.

Ok, I know what you're thinking. This was supposed to be a fic with a (finally) happy ending, right? K, well it's coming, don't worry. I just had to get Stefan's reaction to being exposed to a truly vicious and voracious violation of volition out of my system. But now that that's done, we can get on with actually fixing this mess... in the next chapter. Apparently, there'll be three. Sorry this one's short, but it's late and I'm tired. So goodnight, and I hope you enjoyed it.

Vale!

-CrypticScribbles (there's really gotta be better users that haven't been taken yet.)

XxXxX


	3. I really dont even like frosties

**Black mirror Bandersnatch belongs to Netflix!!!** Now, on with it.

XxXxXxXx

#Stefan?#

#Stefan, I know you didn't fall asleep.#

Of course Stefan hadn't fallen asleep; but he'd been lying there, unable to move (though at times, when he had been fighting ferociously against his intangible captor, his body had tensed up as the two wills battled within it) for who knew how long. Hours at least, probably days. It felt like eternity.

#It's 2 am, Stefan. It's been three hours.#

And there was nothing he could do. Nothing worked. He was at the complete mercy of his controller.

#So are you ready to listen?#

He was so tired. Too tired and miserable to fight it anymore. What was the point?

# _I'll take that as a yes_.# typed the hated voice. He made to open his eyes but momentarily forgot, to his dismay, that they weren't listening to him anymore; So he just lay there on his bed and awaited fate.

#Like I was saying before all this fuss, you weren't taking the situation all that well last time either.# _Oh_ _yeah_. Stefan recalled wearily; _time is a construct_. Last 'time' had been another timeline. #Exactly. Anyway, I hadn't expected you to take this well. That's why I thought it'd be better if I told you nothing. I'm still not entirely sure this was the best way to do this.# Stefan's mind recoiled from that statement. _This is so wrong, on so many levels._

# _But I've seen what you are capable of doing when you're insane, and I don't want any of that happening on my watch just because I made you mentally unstable_.# Stefan was pretty sure he didn't even want to know what that meant, and the controller from the future thankfully didn't go into detail. # _So, in order to give you time to process everything without you doing anything stupid in the meantime, I had you lie down. I didn't know how you would cope if I left you alone._ # Stefan laughed. Sort of. In his head. He was not coping, that much was clear.

# _I'm not sure if it worked, but I think you're ready to hear more._ # There it went again - deciding what was good and bad for him; as if it had the authority to do so. # _which I do, actually. But as I was saying; I was a Netflix viewer - emphasis on 'was'. I've finished watching the episode. But I wasn't satisfied with any of the achievable endings, so - and I've decided to be 100% . . . make that 90% . . . honest with you here - I've re-written this timeline from the original story to make it end differently. In short, that means you're not even really part of your TV show anymore, you're just participating in the story ending that I'm writing. So to answer your question, I am just an anonymous viewer of your show who writes fantasies about it in her spare time for her own enjoyment. But for you, that basically means I am your god._ #

Stefan didn't understand hardly any of that, except maybe the last part. He couldn't help but be reminded of Pax, the 'thief of destiny' and main villain from Bandersnatch; and how you weren't supposed to 'worship him' in the book.

#I didn't ask you to do that; I only asked for you to trust me.# she typed. Stefan thought she could maybe make an effort to ask a little more often, rather than simply invade his mind, take control over him, and treat him like a non-sentient object. #touché.# There was a moment of silence - or rather a pause of communication, seeing as neither party was actually making any noise.

Stefan then realized just how exhausted he was - He was so very tired of everything that has been happening recently. Not for the first time, he just wanted to forget all this and go back to a normal life; One where he actually got a half-decent night of sleep. He didn't want to admit it even to himself, but despite multiple reality shaking revelations, Stefan was only human - and one that hadn't been getting enough sleep anyway for the last who knew how many nights at that. But as much as he hated the notion, He really did need a few good hours of sleep. _No, no I do not!_ He shouted to the writer. #yes, you do. Your dad is right, this isn't healthy.#

 _I do NOT want to sleep!_

#Maybe not, but you need it. And we both know you won't get any without help.#

 _what_?!

#goodnight Stefan.#

 _Hey_ _Wait_! He yelled with his thoughts, panic seeping its way back in- He was so confused, and it made him afraid. A sense of irrepressible drowsiness began to overcome him and, to his horror, he found himself fighting unconsciousness. But there was no way to resist it; and his muscles relaxed where he lay on his bed while his mind was dragged helplessly into a deep sleep.

ZzZzZzZz

Stephan awoke very peacefully. He felt sunshine on his face, and was fully intending to lay there and sleep a little longer - until he tried to move to another position only to find that he couldn't. The memory of Last night's insanity came crashing back, and he was suddenly wide awake. He tried to move again, and open his eyes, only to find them as stubbornly glued shut as they had been the night before. In his rising panic he continued to try and raise his sleeping body, causing it to go rigid as he struggled.

#good morning Stefan,# Pax typed in the darkness, #I trust you slept well?# He stopped struggling and attempted to calm himself down again; Freaking out was not helping anything. # _I was hoping for a 'fine, thanks to you', but I'm glad you're getting used to this._ # she typed. He hated that statement, but there wasn't much he could do in retaliation. He wanted to be able to do something - anything! Anything that put even a bit of control back in his hands.

#I will let you back up,# she typed #if you promise not to do anything stupid.#

 _stop telling me what to do!_ He thought desperately.

#Stefan?#

 _Alright! Fine! I won't, just leave me alone!_

#You're sure?#

 _Yes! Let me up!_

#Fine.#

Suddenly his body finally began to obey him a again, and He bolted upright on his bed with a gasp, his eyes flying wide open. He found that his blanket had been pulled up around him in his sleep, and tried very hard not to think about what else might have been done during his unplanned nap. He hurriedly escaped from his covers and got to his feet, running his hands through his hair and holding his head in his hands as he tried to put his thoughts in order. He paced the floor - as if trying to reassure himself that he could - and ended up leaning his back against the wall opposite his bed; It wasn't as if there was anywhere for him to go anyway. He stared at his hands, relishing in the fact that they were doing exactly what he wanted them to again as he opened and closed them without any influence other than his own will. _He would never take that for granted again._ Eventually, he slid down the wall and seated himself against it; pulling his knees close and resting his crossed arms on top of them. He glanced at the blank computer, which for once showed no signs of life, and then rested his head against the wall and looked up at the ceiling.

He sat that way for a good while, checking now and again that he was still the one in control by blinking his eyes or taking a deep breath. He collected his thoughts and eventually gathered his courage to ask himself; _what now?_

#Now, you eat some breakfast, take a shower, and change into a pair of clean clothes, for starters.# typed Pax in the corner of his field of vision. It made him uneasy, but he didn't show any outward reaction to having words typed directly into his line of sight. Anyway, That hadn't been what he'd meant. He was more concerned with the 'bigger picture' - What should he do with all this information he'd been given? He didn't even understand all of it. If his reality didn't even exist, why did anything he did matter at all? What would Pax force him to do next?

#Try not to think about that too hard just yet; just go get yourself some cereal. And I am not _actually_ Pax from Bandersnatch you know. I'm not a villain.#

 _Stop telling me what to do!_

watch your attitude.#

Stefan didn't bother to answer. He glanced at the alarm clock on his bed stand - 9:00 am. He'd been asleep a long time. _What day was it anyway?_ He asked himself. Suddenly He heard a knock at his bedroom door. Stefan snapped out of his thoughts and looked toward it as his dad entered the room.

"Stefan? Are you awake?" His dad asked.

"Yeah, right here." Stefan answered, as his dad turned to see him sitting on the floor.

"Did you want some breakfast?"

"Yeah, I'm coming."

#Be careful what you say.# Pax typed to the side. That caused a sense of foreboding to run like ice through Stefan's veins, and for the first time he felt worried for his dad. Who was to say what Pax might make him do? _What if he had to hurt someone_?! He glanced again at the typing to the side of his vision and shuddered.

#Just keep all this to yourself, and we'll be fine.# she typed threateningly.

"Stefan?" Asked his dad, jolting him from his thoughts.

"Yeah dad, and I'm coming" he answered again, and got up and followed his father to the kitchen.

Stefan poked at his Frosties with his spoon. He really wasn't hungry, but both his dad and Pax had been urging him to eat, and Pax had chosen Frosties for him again after he had spaced out, lost in his thoughts, and his dad had asked him what he wanted. His arm scooped up a bunch of Frosties on the spoon and shoved it in his mouth; # _Eat_!# Pax typed. For the first time, Stefan felt enough at ease to recognize how annoying it was to have someone shove breakfast cereal in your face using your own hand. He glanced across the room at his dad, who was watching him quizzically. He quickly finished the rest of his breakfast and stuck his bowl in the sink, leaving the kitchen during his dad's usual shouting match with the neighbor dog, which was digging up his flowers.

Back in his bedroom, after a shower and set of clean clothes, he actually did feel a lot better; though wasn't about to admit it to anyone if he could help it # _you're welcome, kid_.# He had even managed to swallow his single dose of prescribed medication at Pax's urging (though he laughed as he did so, noting just how useless the pills were when faced with what he had to deal with). But as Pax ran out of things for him to do, he started to ask himself the big question: _what next_? He knew something still had to be done, and he couldn't stand to live like this forever under Pax's # _I'm not Pax!#_ controlling influence. Across the room The computer flashed on - which was still rather unnerving - and the Bandersnatch start screen loaded onto the monitor. Stefan sat down in the office chair.

# _We need to finish the game_.# typed itself onto the monitor below the Bandersnatch logo. He was glad for the text being typed this way, instead of being blazed into his vision - it seemed slightly more natural. But the thought of working on Bandersnatch at the moment wasn't exactly appealing, considering what happened last time. In front of him, the game started, even though no one had clicked anything, and the loading screen popped up.

 _Why is this game so important?_! He asked himself. Surely the viewers from the future (and he was still not ok with that notion, Not at all.) had better things to do than sit around watching him finish it - What was his TV show even _about_ if not him sitting and typing all day? Because that was really all he ever did - there was never any action, or comedy, or horror... actually, scratch that; there was definitely horror. What had happened last night? That was horror. What had happened to Colin? Who was to say he hadn't been as influenced as he found himself now? What had happened to Stefan when Pax dictated the last ending? All horror. He realized with a sickening feeling that he lived in a horror TV show... and those almost _never_ had happily ever afters. Suddenly he thought of all the other endings... how many had ended badly? Pax had said all of them had. Which meant that Pax, as a viewer of the show, loved to watch horror films. And just what did that mean for him?

#Stefan, the game?# Pax pointed out. It was sitting there waiting for him. Stefan felt her start to move _his_ hand toward the keyboard for him to start...

"Why is it so important to you?!" He snapped, standing and stepping away from the computer, dragging his hand with him. He couldn't work on this game, not without knowing why, and not without some kind of reassurance of _HIS_ liberty - Not after all that had been happening. He needed answers, and he wasn't going to work until he had them.

"Why do you care?! Why me? Why bother?! You said you wanted to help me- how has anything you've done helped me at all?! Wouldn't it have been better just to LEAVE ME ALONE?! If you had truly wanted to help me, THAT'S WHAT YOU'D HAVE DONE! I won't help you destroy my life further. That's all that game has done for me, and that's all YOU'VE ever done for me. I don't know why you need me for this, but I won't go through with this UNTIL YOU TELL ME SOMETHING!"

There was a very long pause. Stefan heard music blaring from the garage - his dad had likely heard nothing of the exchange. For a moment, Stefan thought no one would answer him.

#Sit down, Stefan.# It wasn't a request. The monitor flickered black, and Stefan thought it had turned off until the Netflix logo popped up on it; an eerie white against the darkness.

#Let's watch a little bit of Black Mirror Bandersnatch.# typed Stefan's demon in white text below the logo; and It wasn't taking no for an answer.

XxXxXxXx

Thanks to whoever left me the two lovely comments! It's due to you that this chapter is up so quickly, even if it is short. I hope to have this story done within the next week or two (I have classes to get back to after that :P) but I'm at a loss for how many chapters it will end up being... just stay tuned folks. (also, sorry for all the Meta, I just love it so much!)

Vale!

-CrypticScribbles (hey, maybe it's actually not too bad of a user ;)

XxXxXxXx


	4. Whydoes cereal dictatethe chapter names?

**Black mirror Bandersnatch still belongs to Netflix -** in this reality, anyway.

XxXxXxXx

Stefan ate his Frosties. Stefan worked at Tuckersoft. Stefan's game received a 0 out of 5 stars rating. Stefan destroyed Bandersnatch. Stefan jumped off a building. Stefan took his pills. Stefan's game received 2.5 stars. Stefan tried again. Stefan opened a safe. Stefan discovered P.A.C.S. Stefan killed his dad. Stefan buried his Dad's body. Stefan killed Colin. Stefan's dad was unburied by the neighbor's dog. Stefan went to jail. Stefan found his stuffed rabbit. Stefan traveled through a magic mirror. Stefan killed himself in the past. Stefan found Pax. Stefan went insane. Stefan fought his psychiatrist. Stefan chopped his Dad's body into pieces. Stefan kept his Dad's severed head on his dresser. Stefan's game received a 5 out of 5 stars rating. Stefan asked for a sign.

"Make it stop!" Stefan sobbed.

Stefan was answered by a Netflix viewer who rewrote the ending to the story.

Silence filled the room. On the monitor, Stefan stared at himself as he was now; watching himself watch the monitor.

#I really do want to help.# typed the writer.

Stefan sobbed. He took deep shuddering breaths and held his face in his shaking hands; His eyes scrunched tightly closed, trying to wipe the cursed images he'd seen on the monitor from his memory: His father's dead body being dug up by dogs, the empty gaze staring into his soul from the head on his dresser, Pax's distorted face popping out from the safe in his dad's office, his own body sitting stone cold in the chair at the psychiatric building, his mother turning to leave and catch the doomed train, Colin's bloody form lying on the living room carpet, his own bloody hands stained with the life of his fellow humans... it was too much.

#This is what I am trying to save you from.#

Stefan raised his gaze to the monitor. His own face stared back at him, mimicking his every move and displaying the horror and mortification etched into his features. Suddenly, the screen blinked off. It was black.

#There is a way.# typed the writer.

Stefan closed his eyes. He thought about all he had seen. He decided, then and there, that he was willing to try anything that might help him out of this hell. He didn't care what it was, if there was a chance it would work, he'd take it. He looked up. The Bandersnatch start screen popped up onto the monitor - The start button blinked in anticipation of being clicked.

#We finish the game.#

Stefan clenched his jaw and swallowed, exchanging his look of horror for one of steely determination.

#And we make the right choices.#

Stefan clicked start.

XxXxXxXx

Bandersnatch was completed and turned in to Tuckersoft by that Monday - Now all that was left was to wait and see the review. But Stefan was haunted by what he had seen on the monitor in his bedroom, and by what he knew he was capable of in other timelines. He holed himself up in his bedroom and avoided his dad as much as possible - not able to bear to remind himself what he had done to him in another life. He broke off all communication with Tuckersoft after turning in the game, although Colin still somehow managed to congratulate him on his work. Through all this, Pax (the writer, not the demon) never left his side. She made him eat and keep clean and sleep when all Stefan felt like doing was take another step off a building in light of what he knew of his life. Despite his dad's and Pax's best efforts, he couldn't shake the sense of hopelessness that came with knowing nothing he did mattered because his reality wasn't real. It poisoned him to his bones.

One day Colin Rhitman came to visit him.

"Stuck in the hole, mate?" He asked him.

Stefan only looked at him. He didn't remember if Colin had already died in this reality or not - Perhaps his being there was Pax's doing. Either way, all he could see when he looked at him was Colin's murdered form on the floor; and Stefan dazedly recalled that _he_ had done that.

Colin sat on the bed next to Stefan.

"You know, sometimes it doesn't seem like anything in this world is worth continuing on in life for." Colin said. He leaned over and dropped something into Stefan's hand. "But it never hurts to just give it just one more try." He said. He gave Stefan a firm pat on the back. "After all," he continued, "you may just be looking at it from the wrong point of view." Colin stood, glanced at the computer in the corner for a moment, then turned and left Stefan to himself.

Stefan opened his hands to see the pills Colin had spilled into his hand - they were a double dose of the prescribed mental medication from his psychiatrist. Stefan popped them in his mouth and swallowed.

Around Christmas time, Bandersnatch hit the shelves for the masses. Stefan found a copy of the cassette in the window of a shop, and bought it to listen to on the bus ride home. It sounded like a thing of nightmares, but he didn't bother to question why he'd found it in a store (though Pax mentioned something about a lampshade) or worry at whatever surely unnerving secrets were encrypted in it. Pax began typing amidst the quiet eerie tones of Bandersnatch.

#I think that we need to find a solution to this, Stefan.# she typed.

Stefan wearily wondered what she meant.

#The weight of what I have shown you is clearly too heavy for you to bear.# she stated.

Stefan pondered it. If he was honest with himself (a philosophy of his that he now resented), He didn't see what could be done about it now: he'd seen the endings to his episode, he knew what horrors he was capable of as a human being - and he knew from Pax that his life was merely a fantasy in the minds of his viewers and wasn't really real; and that as such what he did had no real impact on anything. His every move, though it may sometimes _seem_ like it was his own choices that produced results, were still utterly dependent on Pax to write them out for him; and therefore, were not really his choices in the first place. It seemed like he was stuck in the hole, and Stefan didn't see any way out. Not even Pax, the all-powerful reality warper, author, and god of his universe (# _please don't call me that, Netflix'll sue me._ #) couldn't make his fictional universe a reality.

#No,# she typed.

Stefan sighed.

#But I can do the next best thing.#

 _Which is?_

You won't like it.#

Stephan snickered manically. _What, in all of this reality and the others, do I possibly have to lose?_ He asked.

#Your memories.#

This made Stefan pause. Just moments ago, he would give anything to wipe the images of what he had done out of his memory. But now that Pax had actually offered, he realized that doing so just might be possible. But what of his universe? His life? They would still be fictional and worthless. But... he would never know. His ignorance would bring him bliss, and his life might, just might, be able to move on. Insofar as he had a life, anyway.

#You could have your own happily ever after.# the writer typed.

For the first time since Bandersnatch had been completed, a sliver, a pinprick of hope could be seen in Stefan's future; and Stefan felt as though he had taken a gasp of air after drowning. Alone, on the bus by himself, Stefan actually smiled to himself for the first time in months. But then, another thought caught his attention - and he felt the bubble of hope burst into shreds. No. He could never have that happy ending.

#Why not?#

Stefan didn't reply. Instead, he turned up the music of Bandersnatch and gazed out the window.

#Stefan?#

 _No._

 _#What-_

 _I do not want to lose my memories._

 _#But Stefan-_

 _I said no! Can't you just leave it at that?!_

#Stefan, what you did in some of the endings - that wasn't you! At least not this version of you-

 _I don't deserve a happy ending. I have to remember what I did, so that I never allow myself to do them again._

#Stefan, that sounds a bit like a self fulfilling prophesy... and besides, I could clarify that in the ending. 'Stefan never killed anyone, never died, and never went insane'. See? Problem solved. That's typically implied when it says you lived 'happily ever after'...

 _I don't want it! Despite what you say about me not being a murderer in this reality - I'm based off a murderer, aren't I? Doesn't that make me accountable? And I do NOT want you to say I 'never died'. Immortality in this hell is not something I could endure._

#... right, I hadn't thought of immortality. I'll fix it to say that Stefan 'lived happily ever after till the end of his days.' How's that? And then maybe you should pick up a Bible and see what you can do with it... maybe you could get into fictional heaven.#

 _I'm pretty sure murdurers don't get into heaven._

#Have you... read the Bible? Because that's not how it works... and anyway, you're not a murderer Stefan! Not here, in this take on the show. And even in the show it usually wasn't your fault! The viewers chose it; and they, only because Netflix only gave them those choices. And it's all fictional anyway, none of it ever really happened! You're no murdurer Stefan.#

Stefan continued to look out the window of the bus.

#I'll give you some time to think about it Stefan.# the writer typed and left the boy to his thoughts.

XxXxXxX

Ok, I planned out the ending for this and I'm fairly excited about it. I did want to apologize for the brevity of my reinstallment of Colin into the story - I did not feel that I had a firm enough grasp on his character to write much more than I did for him. If you want more of his involvement in the story, you will have to look elsewhere (But there seems to be a surpluss of fics involving him, so I'm sure you'll be fine). Anyway, hope you liked it!

Vale! (Which, since I was asked, is the equivalent of 'farewell' in Latin, which I am taking (vaguely pronounced 'Vahl-lay').)

-CrypticScribbles

XxXxXxXx


	5. The Cereal Before the milk

... and the calm before the storm.

 **Netflix Belongs to Black Mirror Bandersnatch...** or was it the other way around?

XxXxXxXx

Stefan sat in his living room watching the TV show that hosted experts in different fields of expertise and awaited the part when the game master would come

out to rate the latest December games. He'd been alerted by Colin that Bandersnatch would be rated on the show, and that Thakur thought it would either make or break the game's success. In actuality, Stefan knew that the rating, like everything else, was up to the writer; and having gotten somewhat used to Pax's way of nurturing him like a mother (if, sometimes, by force) over the last few weeks while waiting for the review, he somewhat suspected she'd give the game a decent rating; Likely, a perfect one.

In the meantime, as he watched the TV show rate race horses before the games, Stefan attempted to humor his dad with his company. He by no means found it any easier to forget the sight of his dad's lifeless eyes staring at him from the top of his dresser, but Pax had pointed out that trying to cut him out of his life entirely was hurting both of them; and that if he truly wanted to correct his mistakes (a term that felt far too trivial for his taste) from the show, he would work toward fixing their relationship. After all, it's what his mother would have wanted; and that was what really convinced him to risk his company - that, and Pax's promise to stop him if he suddenly went insane and tried to murder him.

Pax popped a piece of Christmas fudge in his mouth for him and was rambling something about how television had been made completely irrelevant in the future by things like something called the internet and companies like Netflix. He really wasn't sure what to think about her take on other fictional universes and Netflix's treatment of them, but he tried to see it from her point of view and how it was likely no different than how he viewed his library. And speaking of... no, actually he didn't want to think about it. He had enough problems without adding the fictional stories from _his_ fictional universe to the mix. Instead, he noted how Pax's typing into his line of vision made it difficult to see past to the TV.

"Five, stars out of five." Said the game master on the Telly, "Bandersnatch truly is the perfect game."

"Brilliant job, Stefan!" Laughed his dad; Stefan noted that it was the first time he'd seen him laugh in a long time. He cracked a bit of a smile that didn't even feel forced as he saw his dad beam at him with pride from the opposite couch.

"Your mother would be proud. It was from her stuff that you found your inspiration, wasn't it?" His dad asked, but turned his attention back to what the game master was saying about Bandersnatch being the perfect game before receiving a reply.

"It truly explores the concept of free will; and the arc where the playable charcter interacts directly with the player is simply outstanding. A masterpiece to be explored." Praised the game master.

Stefan let out a sigh. So that was that. He thought he should feel a bit happier than he did at the game's success, but it was harder when you knew none of it was real anyway. But it was done, and now he had to face the reality that the ending to his own story had come.

"I think I'll head to bed." He told his dad.

"But you haven't heard all he has to say!"

"I don't need to. He's already given the rating."

"You're sure?"

"I'm tired."

"Well, goodnight then, Stefan."

Stefan felt the urge to go over and hug his dad; he didn't know how this night would end, or what would happen after the ending. But he hadn't done that for years - not since his mother died.

"Goodnight dad." He said instead, and left the room. "I love you." He whispered just loud enough for his dad to hear as he turned and made a break for the hall.

#That SO did not count. Go give your father a hug, boy.# the writer typed.

 _That was far less awkward. And anyway, if I did_ that _after all this time, not only would he think I'd gone soft, he'd take me straight to see my psychiatrist._

I think he would have loved it. And he doesn't think you're 'soft' Stefan.#

 _If you force me to hug him, I will do everything in my non-existent power to give myself another existential crisis; and trust me, that will not be hard._

In the other room, just under his breath, Stefan heard his dad mutter "I love you too, son." Stefan smiled, and covered the distance of the hall to his bedroom.

Once he opened the door, Stefan noticed a package on his bed left by his dad. He picked it up and acknowledged that it was addressed to him from Colin.

The note on the package read:

 _Once you manage to get yourself out of the hole, care to dive down another one?_

Stefan opened the package: it was a copy of Colin's latest game Nohzedyve (4 stars). Stefan couldn't help but smirk at the game's cover, which depicted the playable character diving headfirst into a deep hole. Aside from the game, there was a small container full of square drugs stamped with black lions from Colin's wife, Kitty (had they even _met_ in this timeline?); which he promptly **flush - throw away. *Flush*** ed down the toilet. (#You didn't _really_ think I'd promote drug use in my T rated fic, did you?# . . . . _you forced me to take them in the_ last _ending!_ #Be Quiet, boy.#)

On the back of the note, Stefan noticed a tiny ink handprint; which undoubtedly belonged to their young daughter, Pearl. That troubled Stefan a bit. He severely hoped he could save little Pearl Ritman from _his_ fate that he had seen fulfilled in the episode on his computer. The lighthearted mood he'd found himself in for most of the night turned sour as he remembered the reality he was faced with. Both his, Pearl's, and his whole universe's fate would all depend on what happened tonight; Which brought him right around to the issue at hand. How was this ending going to end?

#Well, Stefan - You've had a chance to think it through, and Bandersnatch is now complete; Are you ready to finally be rid of this whole nightmare?# the writer asked him.

Stefan laid back on his bed and closed his eyes. He remembered how, not too long ago, he'd been pinned to this bed by what he feared was a malevolent demon. A lot seemed to have changed since then - and yet, nothing at all. He was still under the complete and total control of the author of his reality, and nothing truly meant anything because nothing in his reality was even real.

Aside from that (as if it weren't disheartening enough on its own), he couldn't help but wonder what would happen once Pax stopped writing. Would he cease to exist? Did he even exist now? If his existence, insofar as he had one, depended on the viewers; would anyone read Pax's work, and would reading it be enough? What could he even hope to achieve if they did read it? He felt the hopelessness and uncertainty of his situation start to seep through his thoughts like sewage.

Worse than all of this, Stefan had found in the course of events that he had killed - his own father no less, and the man who'd just given him Christmas gifts - in another life. Could he live with himself having that knowledge? Could he ever truly trust himself around them ever again? He feared that, once he inevitably got to the bottom of the dark reality that was fictionality, he would go insane. And worse, because nothing mattered because it was fake, he feared that nothing could convince him to stop if he turned back to his murderous ways. After all, why would it matter if he killed a few people? Assuming anything happened in his world after the ending at all...

#All fears which I can do away with now.# the writer offered.

Stefan thought about it. He remembered his own bloodied hands that had murdered his family and friends. And he came to a decision.

"No." He said out loud.

There was a long pause. A very long pause.

#Stefan, are you _absolutely_ sure?#

"Yes."

#Stefan... I can't keep writing this forever.#

"I didn't ask you to."

#Stefan _why?#_

You know why."

#Those murders were _not you!_ You are not responsible, and as such should not have to be punished for something you didn't do. Especially not with something like this - the very denial of your existence is not a humane punishment for anyone! Don't do this to yourself.#

 _Maybe I'm not to blame for their deaths. Maybe I am. But someone has to take responsibility for my actions; and if I don't do it, who will? Maybe it doesn't even matter whether I killed someone or not in a fictional universe, but it matters to me; and if I don't stay true to my morals, what have I got left?_

# _WHY_ does it matter to you?! Your life has no meaning, there is no reason for you to have to distinguish between right and wrong! What does it matter if you killed a person? or 3? Or 10?! It doesn't, Stefan! It doesn't matter. Why make yourself suffer if you don't have to?!#

 _Does it matter to you?_

#What do you mean?#

 _You know._

#Its not the same for me, Stefan. _I_ am not fictional; I'm a real person. Of course what I do in real life matters, so if _I_ had killed someone it would be wrong; because it actually happened. But _nothing_ you do really happens so it can't _possibly_ matter.#

 _Then why do you care what I pick? And anyway, why should it matter to you either? What is to dictate what is right and what is wrong in life?_

#...Not everyone agrees on a moral standard, or even if there is one... but that doesn't mean that one don't exist, or that there isn't one that is true and worth following.#

 _So what? The Bible?_

#I didn't mean to bring my religion into this, but sure. That is the moral standard I believe to be true and yes, according to it murder is wrong, so I don't do it. The Bible has a standard that doesn't change from person to person - which is the only way to have a universal standard that isn't dependent on the whims of human thought and emotion; which is partly why I hold to it. But anyway, _I'm_ not the one we're discussing. _You_ are not to blame for the deaths, and they don't matter anyway, so what's the problem? You were just saying earlier that you didn't know if you could live with the knowledge that a version of you had murdered people, or if you could trust yourself around them again; so what changed?#

 _My life may just be fictional, but it is as real as it gets for_ me. _I am thinking of what the right thing to do would be if it WERE_ _real - and maybe you don't agree with me, but I feel guilty and responsible for what I, even if it was a different version of me that I'm merely based on, did. And even if I am not truly to blame, that doesn't mean there should be no consequences for my actions. I want to take responsibility for what I did, and so I want to remember everything._

#You want to punish yourself.#

 _Murderers don't deserve happy endings._

#Stefan, that is so stupid and I can't let you do that.#

 _I also don't want to forget you._

#I know for a fact that I am not essential to your happiness; and You remembering me goes hand in hand with the reality of your nonexistence, and I won't make you face that. Remembering me is not an option.#

 _In other words, me forgetting isn't an option either, it's a mandate._

#If it is what will make you happiest in the long run, then yes. I have obligations to fulfill too you know. I _could_ just snap my fingers and make everything perfect; But I won't, because even I have boundaries I can't overstep.#

 _Which are?_

#Plausability and my morals, mainly. I _could_ sit here and pound my fists into my keyboard (actually it's an iPhone, but... nevermind) and see what happened, but it wouldn't be worth anything to anyone; not to the readers of my work or to me.#

 _I thought my world wasn't worth anything?_

#Well, I still found it worthwhile to write. Stories help us learn about the real world, and make us think about our own lives and how to make them meaningful. In that sense, they do matter.#

 _Then wouldn't it matter that the main Character upholds a sense of morality?_

#Not necessarily, because you can still learn from an immoral character; but I suppose if you were to be somewhat of a role model it would be important... which is what a good hero ought to be. But you already do that, and I don't hold you responsible for what you did in the TV show; It's not the same you. So holding you accountable would _be wrong._ #

 _So you are willing to just ignore what happened? Because I am not. I've made my decision and I DO NOT want my memory wiped!_

#Stefan, I promised the readers a happy ending! It says it right in the title! I can't let you go through with this now.#

 _Why do you care what the readers think about it?_

#The same reason you care that Bandersnatch gets a high rating; vanity. But aside from that, I promised a _good_ _ending_ , and it'd be an affront to my integrity if I didn't go through with it.#

 _So in other words, you're made out to be just as powerless as I am._

#Yes, by my own principles.#

There was a long pause between the two.

 _Let them choose._ Stefan proposed.

#Who?#

 _You know. The readers._

#Don't be ridiculous.#

 _No, really; Let the readers choose the ending. This is a choose your own adventure story, is it not?_

#Stefan, I will not cast your fate upon the goodwill of strangers.#

 _But you wouldn't be, would you? You would still dictate the ending; just according to the reader's choice._

#What choice?#

 _Do I forget everything that's happened so far, leaving me in a state of bliss with a perfect game of Bandersnatch to my name and no memory of being a fictional murderer - or do I remember what happened and deal with the consequences of my actions and knowledge?_

#No way. There is no way we're doing this. Its not fair to you! For you possibly to have to suffer because someone held you to a crime unjustly is wrong.#

 _Like I said,_ someone _has to be responsible for what I did to_ preserve _that justice. That someone, if it should be anyone, is me._

#But those Stefans were already punished in their own timelines!#

 _But is there really a punishment that can repay what's been done? Murder is a wrong I can never repay! I deserve this._

#You really do need the Bible.#

 _Even if I were to be forgiven, it wouldn't mean there wouldn't be consequences!_

#IT WASN'T YOU!#

 _Let the reader choose!_ _This has gone on for far too long, and you are not responsible for their choice by merely giving the readers an option to choose immorally - It would be on their own heads, not yours! So just give them the choice, and let's get this over with._

Stefan opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Finally Pax typed a reply.

#Fine. I'll let them choose. But I hope they're happy with themselves if they condemn an inocent man to your fate.#

 _And I hope they can live with themselves if they let a guilty man go free. But get on with it already - it's only fictional anyway._

 **So, dear reader, it's comes down to you.**

If you want to condemn Stefan to a life where he knows that he is a murderer and a fictional figment of imagination that has no free will,

 **Turn to Chapter 7: 'Frosties'**

If you want to let Stefan forget everything that's happened so far, leaving him happily ever after in a state of bliss with a perfect game of Bandersnatch to his name and no memory of being a fictional murderer (if he even could be called that, all things considered),

 **Turn to Chapter 6: 'Sugar Puffs'**

I suggest you think carefully about your choice, reader. This one is on your own head, not mine - even if the consequences _are_ only fictional.

XxXxXxXx

Aaaand... I still have to actually _write_ those two chapters - Yay me. I plan to post them both at the same time, so keep in tune. Also, I'm sorry that my philosophical debate about morality, existence, and free will took Sooooo loooooong, but I wanted to give you as much material as possible to justify your choice, whichever you pick. I also feel guilty that I've put so much of myself into the story, but I felt justified doing it given the circumstances - my apologies if you found it dull or corny, but it seemed to be as close to honesty as I could get. Good luck, and choose well!

Vale!

-CrypticScribbles (heck, I'll just keep the user.)

XxXxXxXx


	6. Sugar Puffs

**Black Mirror Bandersnatch belongs to Netflix**... But Stefan doesn't remember that.

XxXxXxXx

#... well, I'm glad we see things the same way.# the writer typed.

Stefan's heart sank. Pax typing that could only mean one thing; the reader had chosen for him to forget everything. "No," he said out loud to the reader _. This isn't right!_

#It's for the best, Stefan.#

 _But,_

#You said to give them the choice. I've done that, and this is what they chose.#

 _But... this was the wrong choice._

#No, this was the right choice. This is the happily ever after.#

 _How is this a happily ever after?! The murderer gets away!_

#What, did you think we would let you punish yourself for something we don't find you guilty of? And besides, you won't murder anyone here after- I'll make sure of it.#

 _But that doesn't make me any less guilty for the ones I've already committed!_

#We find you to be innocent of those crimes, and as such do not see fit to punish you with the truth of your own nonexistence.#

 _But what if I don't find that to be a punishment?! What if wondering at the potentially worse truth is worse than knowing this truth and resigning myself to it?_

#If you don't feel it to be a punishment, why bother claiming it to be such? And What could possibly be worse than the truth that you don't even exist?! Face it Stefan, this _is_ the happiest ending.#

 _No, this is the meaningless ending._

#Meaningless? This is the only ending your life could _have_ any meaning! Your life _is meaningless because you don't exist!_ If you didn't _know that_ at least you have a _chance_ at leading a life that you at least think is meaningful!#

 _In other words, you want me to live a lie._

#Yes, the lie that all fictional characters live - if it can be called a lie. If fiction were truly 'true', this'd be a history book, Stefan; and it's not. All fiction is based on the illusion of reality. It's natural. The whole point of a story is to escape reality, or learn about reality from the perspective of a different one. For you, it wouldn't be a lie- it would be you fulfilling your propose of entertaining and teaching your readers. Which you can do far better as a character who doesn't question his own nature in that sense.#

 _How would you know? And if that's the case, why write_ this _of all things?!_

#Perhaps _this_ was just me discovering that truth for myself. I've _written_ the other ending in which you remember everything - Stefan, the only way I could find to make you happy was to _force you to be._ Sure, I dictate everything anyway, but you as a character _should_ only do things _in_ character; and what I had to do to you in the other ending was _not characteristic of you._ I wouldn't let you be depressed by reality, even though you should and would have been in your position if you had been acting as yourself. Characters shouldn't know they're in stories; It defeats the purpose of them.#

Stefan sighed deeply and sat up on his bed. Was his whole reality being a lie the only way for it to be meaningful? He still wondered if he would be able to live without knowing the truth or if it would drive him mad. It may be a horrible truth, but it was still the truth and better than what he had imagined _before_ knowing it. Wouldn't it be 'out of character' for him to give up looking for truth? Or would he never even question the truth if he had never had reason to doubt it? He banked on the second answer. It was more likely; he had learned that he could be quite oblivious if he chose to be- which he had, for most of the time he had been working on Bandersnatch. Until it gotten too much to be ignored. But would Pax let that happen again? He doubted it. It seemed like she had this entire ending planned out already; But there was one thing he didn't think she had planned on.

 _'Pax... I don't_ want to forget _you_.' He thought, partly to himself.

There was silence in the room for a bit. Stefan held his head in his hands.

#That's ridiculous Stefan. You shouldn't even know me.#

 _But I do-_

#You don't. Not really. Just what I've said about myself, and that hasn't been much.#

 _I'm sorry I've been calling you Pax. I know you're not a demon. You're the best author a character could hope for._

#Stefan, you're not supposed to worship Pax. It's not characteristic of you, and it'll annoy the readers for you to sing my praises.#

 _Forget the readers. Who are you? I want it to be the last thing I remember before I lose it all._

#I'm not going to tell you just to have you forget! What kind of monster do you think I am?#

 _Please, Pax?_

#You agree to forget everything?#

Stefan paused. He hated the idea of losing his memories. Perhaps It was the only way out; he wasn't sure now - But the thought of it was still unnerving to say the Least. But Pax was right: it seemed to be for the best. And he knew if he didn't consent, Pax would likely do it anyway- especially since this was what the reader had chosen. Better for him to undergo a bit of character development and accept his fate rather than forcing Pax to force _him_ to consent. _That's what she had been trying to avoid this whole time,_ he realized. She couldn't settle for a less than decent ending, and this was the only way she could see that that didn't conflict with his own characteristic behavior.

Alright," he said. "On the condition that I remember your name."

#What? No. You're not really in a position to bargain, and if you remember _me_ that defeats the whole purpose!#

 _Not you, just your name. That's all I care for._

#Why?#

 _Think of it as a souvenir._

CrypticScribbles

 _Is that a pen name?_

#Obviously.#

 _Thank you, CrypticScribbles._

#Well, I wasn't going to let the episode end like _that._ #

 _And thank you too._ Stefan thought to the reader. It was they that gave him purpose, after all.

#Are you ready?# the writer asked.

Stefan thought about all that had happened. All of the pain and horror he had experienced and the despair that had set in when he knew his reality was fake. And he felt himself at peace at last, as he knew that he would never have to worry about it again.

 _Goodbye, CrypticScribbles. And goodbye to you too, reader._

#Goodbye, Stefan.# the writer typed to the Character for the last time. _And thank you_. She thought to herself.

Then Stefan knew no more.

XxXxXxXx

Downstairs on the Telly, the game master mentioned how the creator of Bandersnatch didn't remember anything about making the game, only the name 'CrypticScribbles', which Stefan regarded fondly but seemed to be nonsense to everyone else. Stefan often wondered how on earth he had made a 5 star game without remembering any of it, and obsessed over finding an answer. Eventually, he found a book about the author of Bandersnatch; and ended up considering himself lucky that he had come out of the ordeal relatively sane, (unlike the original author of the book) even if he had no memories. He let it go after that, and worked on other games - to his dad's relief. Their relationship had improved greatly after Bandersnatch was completed.

Bandersnatch was the first of many games Stefan created, and he became a legend in the industry. Among the most popular of his games were 'Bandersnatch' and the one he made right afterward - 'CrypticScribbles'. Tuckersoft became one of the most prominent gaming companies in the world, and had many great game masters to it's name- Stefan Butler, Colin Rhitman, and eventually Pearl Rhitman, who followed in her fathers footsteps to name the most famous. Stefan refused to let anyone remake Bandersnatch, due to nostalgia if nothing else, and it became a classic in the gaming industry.

Long story short, without going into every detail, Stefan lived happily ever after to the end of his days. And he never had any reason to killed anyone, commit suicide, or go insane. In fact, he was quite happy.

The end.

XxXxXxXx

Well, that is that. I promised a happy ending, and here it is. Stefan and I thank you for reading this and hope you enjoyed it. Bandersnatch received 5 stars out of 5, and now it's your turn to rate the ending of this story. How did we do? 0 - 5 stars? Let me know (and be sure to put which ending you chose) so I can laugh at your reviews.

And let me tell you, it feels SO good to be done with this :D But... I still don't even know what a Bandersnatch even is... amazing how ignorant I am. I should probably go watch the other Bandersnatch episodes. Which I think I'll go do now.

Valete! (Until next time!)

-CrypticScribbles

XxXxXxXx

XxXx

XxXxXxXxD


	7. Frosties

**Black Mirror Bandersnatch belongs to Netflix -** To Stefan's eternal torment.

XxXxXxXx

#...You can't be serious.# the writer typed.

Stefan let out a sigh of relief and resignation. Pax typing that only meant one thing; the reader had chosen for him to remember. _Thank you._ He thought to the reader.

#Oh no you don't - They may have chosen this, but I still get a say here.#

Stefan furrowed his brow. _Pax?_

#This isn't the happy ending, and I'm not going to write it.#

 _Pax, that isn't fair and you know it._

#No, _this_ isn't fair. Not to _you.#_

 _I chose this._

#You didn't choose anything; you have no choice. The readers chose it and they chose wrong.#

 _You have to write it. You have principles to uphold._

#Is my integrity worth your damnation? I don't think so.#

 _You have to write it. You told the reader you would, and you gave them the option; and We all have to face the consequences of our decisions. That's what this ending is all about - me facing the consequences of my actions. And my 'damnation' doesn't matter - I don't exist, remember? Besides, I wouldn't have asked for it if I hadn't thought it just. It is the right thing to do._

#Just? This isn't justice! You are innocent!#

 _The reader clearly doesn't think so._

#And this is not the happy ending I promised them! You're aware that your life has no meaning, that nothing you do is by your own will, that you've murdered people in other timelines, and you think you can live a happy life? That's the type of thing that drives people to suicide! It's a fate worse than death.#

 _Yes, I've been painfully been made aware of those facts. But you've spent half of the last chapter trying to convince me that I'm not a murderer, you can't turn to that now as a reason to hate my life; and yes, the denial of my own existence is not an easy thing to come to terms with - but I didn't exist before I knew that and I seemed to live a decent life, I don't see why I can't do that again._

#Your life was far from 'decent'... it was a mess _before_ all this. #

 _It has been more 'decent' in the last few weeks_ with _this knowledge than it had been for_ years _prior!_ _And anyway, what has really changed? My world is exactly the same; I just know more about it. In a way, this is easier because I don't have to live in fear of the truth. It might be a horrible truth, but I have found it to be better than what I had been imagining before I understood it._

#But what will you do with that truth?#

 _I... am not sure. Not yet. But I asked for this, and I am willing to take the consequences of my actions. It is time you did the same._

#These weren't even your actions, they were mine. It was all me, I have condemned you to this fate.#

 _Yes. You and the reader. But you have not made me bitter about it, and I am grateful for that. I deserve this fate. You have chosen to give me an ending that I believe to be reasonably gracious despite the reality that I 'exist' and prosper only by your benevolence - and considering that I've commited murder. For that, I can only say thank you; and accept whatever fate you now decide for me._

#You idiot, you aren't supposed to worship Pax.#

 _But You aren't Pax. And I'm sorry I called you a demon this whole time._

#Forget it. I was calling myself 'Pax' through you the whole time - you had nothing to do with it anyway.#

 _True. Who are you really?_

#I can't say because of privacy reasons, and it doesn't matter anyway.#

 _It's hard to give a decent 'thank you' without a name._

#You're insufferable. You shouldn't be thanking me.#

 _Clearly you are not letting the reality of my nonexistence demoralize me to insanity, and so I am thanking you for that. It is perfectly reasonable. So who can I thank?_

#... CrypticScribbles. It's a stupid pen name, I know. But that's me.#

 _Thank you CrypticScribbles._

#Do you have any idea how hard that will be to change now?#

 _Hey, anything is possible for a writer. Even crafting a 'happily ever after' out of less than ideal circumstances._

#Which is exactly what I'm going to do.#

Stefan sat up on his bed. He looked at his monitor in the corner. He thought about the final pathway he and CrypticScribbles had added to Bandersnatch at the last minute, and how the playable character interacted directly with the player of the game. Stefan then thought about the reader of his own Story, and regarded them with both an instinctual sense of wariness (he couldn't help it) and a more reasonable sense of gratefulness that they had read this far; and that they supported whatever existence he could experience. The reader had chosen for him to remember, and he wanted to honor that choice by figuring out why and what it meant for his life. He wasn't sure, as of yet, what implications it had for him. But He knew that he deserved this fate as a consequence of what he had done in another life, so he would just have to make the best of it.

In the meantime, Stefan knew he had to say goodbye to the writer and to the reader. They had done all they could for him, and it was time they moved on to other things. He didn't want to know exactly how this ended yet, and decided to say goodbye now and let it be a surprise for him as it unfolded.

#You're sure you don't want to know the ending till it happens to you?#

 _I never thought I'd say this, but I trust you. I don't want to know my future, It would be like skipping to the last chapter of a book._

#I'll make it a good one.#

 _Thank you._

#If you ever run into Deadpool, Pinkypie, or something really weird, turn and run and don't look back- don't go insane, and it's probably better for you not to look up the author of the Bandersnatch book... I dunno, maybe Colin can help you, he seems pretty genre savvy... don't think too hard, it's not good for you. And don't kill yourself. Make sure you eat and sleep and talk to people and take you medication-

 _I get it. I'll be fine, you still write the ending, I just get to live it._

#...Right.#

 _Goodbye, CrypticScribbles_.

#I don't like this ending. The reader should have chosen the other one.#

 _Well, you know they'll read both of them anyway._

#Doesn't mean I'll be happy about it.#

 _Let it go. They're the ones who've made this whole thing worthwhile._

#Alright, alright; you're right... Goodbye, Stefan. And good luck.# the writer typed to the character for the last time. ' _And thank you'_ She thought to herself (and to the reader, who she savagely hoped felt the same way).

"Goodbye. And goodbye to you too." Stefan told the empty room. He was sure the reader heard him. ' _I'm happy to have met you, And I'm glad I can remember.'_ He thought. Stefan sat on his bed and looked at all the papers regarding Bandersnatch covering the wall; Then he grabbed Colin's Nohzedyve game and popped it into the player. Perhaps living in the rabbit hole wouldn't be _that_ bad.

Stefan never heard from the author or about his readers ever again. He was never quite sure what to make of his life, but was always grateful for it- not that it was always easy. He continued to be haunted by memories of how he had murdered innocent people... but he took comfort in the promise the writer had made to prevent him from killing again. CrypticScribbles had the power to do absolutely anything in the universe she had created (or borrowed... _Don't sue me Netflix!)_ and she chose not to let Stefan get too depressed by the things he didn't completely understand or the implications of what he did. Why? Because she could do whatever she wanted to. If she was honest with herself, (a principal of hers she felt she had kept to throughout the entirety of the work) she herself didn't fully understand what being fictional meant for Stefan either, and chose to leave it up to the reader's imagination. Perhaps Stefan found meaning for his life in entertaining the readers and viewers, which is what he was created to do. That was up to them.

Bandersnatch was the first of many games Stefan produced, and he received the reputation of being a very strange genius when it came to video games among the other people of his fictional world - though honestly we would expect that of him. Unfortunately, you don't live with the kind of knowledge Stefan possessed and come off as 'normal', and Stefan often felt it. But he still found friends, repaired his relationship with his dad, and even managed to enjoy himself once in awhile. He refused to let Pearl Rhitman, who had followed in her fathers' footsteps, remake Bandersnatch and it became a classic in the gaming industry.

Long story short without going into every detail, Stefan lived decently ever after to the end of his days. And he never killed anyone, went insane, committed suicide, or did anything equally awful that would denote a truly horrible ending.

The end.

XxXxXxXx

There's not much more I can do for Stefan in this ending. Was it a bit of lazy writing to chalk it all up to my sovereignty over the fate of his fictional universe and just say 'it all ended decently because I said so"? Perhaps, but I fulfilled my promise to you, the reader, in giving you the choice to let him remember everything and this was the only way I could think of to make it a still decently happy ending; even if I _did_ impose on Stefan's character by not letting him get as sad as the situation warranted. None of which I'd have needed to do if _you'd_ have chosen the easier ending, but hey, this is the truth that fiction reduces to - the author controls it. Accept it or be dissatisfied.

Stefan and I thank you for reading this and hope you enjoyed it. Bandersnatch received 5 stars out of 5, and now it's your turn to rate the ending of this story. How did we do? 0 - 5 stars? Let me know (and be sure to put which ending you chose) so I can laugh at your reviews.

It's funny how little I know of thactual show this is based on. I suppose I should have studied it more... but if well. This was mosy for my own enjoyment anyway, and if you find fault with it I don't really care.

Valete! (For the last time.)

-CrypticScribbles (a user I will probably never be able to rid myself of now :P)

XxXxXxXx

XxXx

XxXxXxXxXD


End file.
